


Whips and Chains

by Razzmayy



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: F/M, Masochism, One Shot, Pain, Plot, Pole Dancing, Porn, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Violence, asshole Joker, master Bane, mild non-con with knife play, past history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:28:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29531985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razzmayy/pseuds/Razzmayy
Summary: Reader and Bane devise a plan to take down the Joker's crime empire in Gotham. Their plan goes awry. Along the way, reader gets to experience her fantasy.
Relationships: Bane (DCU)/Reader, Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel
Kudos: 8





	Whips and Chains

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine what you will as far as which Joker is cast in this role. However, I have a strong impression of Margot Robbie as Harley. That being said, this is a Nolanverse fic with the Tom Hardy conceptualization of Bane. I do not own these characters, but I sure wish I did.

Gotham was turning dark as you analyzed the incoming data from the listening device previously placed on the Joker. Tonight, another leg of the plan would be put in action, and you began feeling the preeminent jitters akin to that of a pro athlete about to step onto the court. Bane stood behind you listening to the audio.

It’d been a year since you joined the League. You couldn’t believe you survived. To be fair, your evolving relational alliance with Bane provided certain supports that others didn’t have the luxury of experiencing.

It started roughly three months ago. Distanced field trainings turned into hand to hand sparring. Your gaze maintained eye contact longer, and touches became less fleeting. Finally, after much time and consistency, Bane dared to trust you. He trusted you enough to share his bed and his body. While it was everything you ever wanted in theory, Bane had a permanent tenderness in the way he treated you in bed. The moments were, and continue to be, lovely, but you yearned for more. More urgency, less tenderness, and more pain.

You weren’t surprised by your own sexual revelations. There were inklings before joining the League that you were a masochist, and the training you endured conditioned you to love the pain as well as desire to be out of control. Bane was in control, but he always required you to be in control as well. No mistakes were permitted. You suspected that he controlled others’ actions all day every day and did not desire to do so in his moments of respite with you.

Other members of the League knew about your partnership. Once the bond was made, Bane began keeping you close in missions while utilizing your tactical and knowledge for logistical planning. You could proficiently read people, and your learned critical thinking sharpened Bane’s plans. He began integrating your thoughts more and more.

Radio waves crackled, and you jolted in your seat. “Easy, little one. Do not lose your nerve in the silence of anticipation,” Bane admonished as he tuned the dial to reduce the static. You could hear voices coming through.

“The big guy is coming in tonight...” crackle pop “...bringing his arm candy...” dash pop pop “used to work for me” crackle “show them!” Joker’s voice faded into static.

Your eyes blew wide. “Bane, I think they know! How could he know!?” You stood and paced becoming increasingly agitated. Bane took severe care in protecting the status of your relationship. You both recognized the value in utilizing the relationship as a tactical tool against possible opponents. A secret weapon, if you will. Plus, this opponent was fierce, and your existing relationship with Bane, in addition to your history with Joker, made for quite the savvy plan.

Several years ago, you worked in Joker’s club as a dancer and entertainer. You got your in by knowing his darling boo, Harley. You and her attended grad school together and both fell off the beaten path of psychiatry. It’s where you learned to read people, and you gained a lifelong friend. Harley was near and dear to your heart and looked after you when you struggled. The overall friendship dissolved some when she continued to play dumb at Joker’s side. Yet, she still got you a job in his club including running weapons through Gotham’s underground using what Joker called “enhanced interrogation techniques.” That really meant whooing the men folk with your body and brash statements while negotiating for firearms. This often resulted in Joker being able to take advantage of any shmuck unlucky enough to interact with you. Big players. Politicians, priests, city officials. They all lined up and fell prey to whatever your wishes were. Of course, this whole operation was Harley’s idea, but she insisted on reminding you that it was her “Mistah J” that was brilliant enough to come up with it.

Needless to say, Joker was less than pleased when you left his crime ring to find greener pastures. Unfortunately, this meant that you hadn’t spoken with Harley in over a year.

Here you were. About to crack his shit and sneak attack him with a surprise reunion while Bane collected the necessary information from his lackeys. That plan was obviously blow to shit if he knew Bane was coming in with you as his arm candy.

“Fuck!” You yelled kicking the chair into the desk. “Your anger is warranted, but do not lose yourself” Bane spoke evenly as he placed a strong hand on your shoulder grounding you in the moment. “We need only reevaluate our expectations. Tell me, how might we adjust?”

You forced your breathing to slow and for the furious memories to quiet. He was testing you, sure. But you also knew that he needed some assistance and was actually asking you for help. You lived for these moments.

“I think we can use their knowledge to our advantage,” you stated with renewed confidence.

.........................

The bouncer swung the ginormous black door open with a wink. You proceeded to blow him a kiss and sway into the club wearing a sheath, silver dress with tall, red pumps. It had been a while since you’d worn anything of this caliber, but it felt like hugging an old friend.

Music pulsed as the crowd watched and followed the women bending to the beat on stages throughout the club. You took a deep breath and smelled bourbon and cigar smoke wafting upward toward the rafters. A waitress took your drink order and the song changed. The DJ came across the loud speaker. “Here she is, ladies and gents. The queen herself!”

You looked to the main stage expectantly and immediately grinned when Harley entered in full Dominatrix leather. Damn, you missed her. She looked amazing as she grabbed the pulley system to leverage herself above the crowd. Her song was heavy metal, and it only made you grin wider. After your drink came, you made your way to the front of the stage.

Harley contorted and twisted her limbs incredibly as you watched completely taken with her grace and command. She could get anyone to sign their soul to her. At the end of the song, Harley landed center stage as the crowd threw money at her. You took a hundred in your right hand and raised it straight in the air. This, you knew, would get her attention.

She bowed and curtsied but stilled when she saw the hand above all others. “Oh my Gawd!” Harley screamed as she jumped off the stage and into your arms. You missed these moments dearly as your heart pumped with love and a hint of regret.

Without another word, she yanked you onto stage with her. Her hand reached for the microphone, and she spoke excitedly. “People, this is my bestest friend in the whole world, and she’s a Mad Haus vet!” The crowd cheered as you beamed and waved something like a pageant girl would. “She’s been gone an awful while, so I think she owes us all a make-up dance, if you catch my drift!” Harley bounced as she winked and shook her hips suggestively. The crowd roared, and you let old roots begin to show. You knew how to please a crowd.

Harley had a bouncer hand her a chair to sit at the front of the stage, “Now dance for us, puppet!” Harley giggled into the mic as you took hold of the pole to your left.

The music started, and you rolled your eyes as WAP came on. Harley was fucking with you, but you knew you had to nail this. Your body fell quickly into muscle memory as you rolled your hips and lifted yourself up. You loved the pole. It let you defy physics. The ridiculous song played on, but you ignored it except for the beat. The tempo played your head as you paced your movements. As you slid down, the dress you were wearing slid up. Slowly, you teased the crowd by pulling the dress to just below your laced covered pussy. At the last moment, you turned to reveal your ass and the crowd cheered and you bent forward to shake it for them. You knew the dress had to go as the end of the song was approaching, and you needed a finale. So, you threw the dress off your body and into the crowd as you climbed higher and higher toward the ceiling.

The League taught you not to feel fear because fear was a weakness. While you were still working to apply that to all aspects of your life, you found profound courage in moments such as this. The song came to the final beats as you reached the top. You waited till the song stopped completely and the club fell silent. In that quiet, you let your body fall into a death drop. You caught yourself a mere foot above the ground.

Harley jumped up cheering as the crowd erupted and shook the club. The praise was astounding and filled you with pride. Celebratory cheer wavered and tapered as Joker enter from downstage with a grin and a slow clap.

“Well, well, well, WHAT a surprise!” Joker embellished without the need for a microphone. The attention he held from the crowd was not earned from respect but fueled by fear. They knew that this cat was no good, but all the party people still went to his damned clubs.

“J, it’s been too long!” You stated this cheerfully as you approached him with open arms for a showmanship hug. You knew this was part of the act.

“Ah, you look absolutely stunning! Doesn’t she folks?” The crowd clapped in agreement. “And that dance! Wow! What a SHOWstopper!” Joker exaggerated with his body movements but kept a hint of malice in his voice. You could pick up on his characteristic crazy from a mile away.

“Now, I know that Harley asked for a make-up dance,” he paused for effect “but, darling, you really broke my heart when you left.” Everyone waited for his deliberation. “I think you need to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness.” Joker smirked a twisted half smile as you registered what he meant.

He didn’t mean get on your knees literally. Actually, he was introducing your signature number that you used to perform. The performance always left audiences a bit...excited, so you only used it for extremely special occasions.

“But, J. That number takes very special props and preparation.” You stated kindly trying to escape the situation.

“HAhahaHA! You are most definitely right, my dear.” He placed his hand on his chin in mock contemplation. “Good thing we have everything you need right in the back! Roll it out, Brutus!”

You steeled yourself not to react as a large, leather clad worker rolled out first a bathtub full of bubbles and water and then a rack of what some would call torture devices. You couldn’t believe what you were about to do. Your eyes searched the crowd for a way out but found none.

Joker looked at you expectantly and you nodded affirmatively. Harley ushered you backstage as you began changing for the number. “Babygirl, I’m so excited! It’s been so long since you’ve done this!”

“I know you are, Harley. Just promise me you won’t let anyone go overboard, okay?” You asked this with hope. Harley nodded her head and smiled comfortingly at you. “Break a leg, sexy!” She swatted your butt as she ran further backstage.

The track began playing as you prepared your best game-face. You scampered out spiritedly as the crowd oohed and awed at your towel covered body. Joker sat near the back of the club on his throne. You turned and rolled your eyes away from the crowd. His audacity was hard to stomach.

Your body swayed to the overly saccharine song as you teased the towel away from your naked body. With the towel loosely around your midsection, you turned your back toward the crowd and stepped into the frigid, bubbly water. A growl escaped your throat in anger at Joker for pulling such a petty stunt. At the perfect moment, you dropped the towel completely revealing your naked ass and proceeded to sink into the bubbles.

You splashed and played in the water teasing the crowd by making it look like you were touching yourself. Fools.

Everything came to a crescendo when you acted out an orgasm. After peaking, you sank underwater where your next costume change waited. You struggled to get the costume on underwater but heard the song change to a more menacing tone. The cue was coming.

You counted to ten and stood abruptly into a power pose. Legs still in the water, you showed the crowd your body bound in ropes, leather, and fit with a collar around your neck. Strategically, you slithered out of the bath and onto the floor where you crawled to the play rack. Straps dangled loosely waiting for your wrists and ankles. You grimaced in expectation.

The DJ came on the mic. “For $1,000, one of you lucky folks can be her master for the next hour while the entire crowd cheers you on!” A rumble grew into a roar as a bidding match began. Moments later, Joker cut in “SOLD! To the sleezy with the bad haircut for 50 bucks!” Said man cheered as the crowd withstood from grumbling knowing that Joker’s word was law.

You watched as the man with a mullet and offensive tattoos staggered to the stage. He was clearly drunk and you thought about ending the charade. Instead, you calmed your nerves and remained in your kneeling position, waiting like an obedient slave.

“Get up!” He shouted abruptly when reaching you. You internally rolled your eyes at the weak command but stood regardless. His hands shot to your limp wrists and fastened them to the rack. He chuckled and did the same to your ankles. Standing, his tongue shot out and licked his lips as he eyed the instruments.

Immediately reaching for the whip, you let a chuckle escape. He shot daggers at you as he palmed the leather. Stepping back ten paces, the whip wizzed through the air barely touching your skin. This man had zero clue what he was doing. The crowd booed as he failed several times. Finally, he wretched his wrist at the proper moment and heard a loud snap. A smile creeped to his face and he aimed the next blow to your stomach.

It seared you on contact, but you refused to yell out. You wouldn’t give this asshole the satisfaction. The whip slapped you several more times leaving red welts before he grew bored and tossed it to the ground. He approached the rack and picked up a rod.

Pain ebbed and flowed as this man began tiring himself out after several minutes of trying to break you. The pig was sweating and breathing heavily as you smirked in defiance. Joker watched your pride slip when he threw a knife at the man’s feet. “Try that stud. She’s a tough one,” he chuckled out.

Your facade faded rapidly as the man approached you, knife in hand. This wasn’t part of the plan. It’d never happened before. Panic took you as the knife slipped into your arm. A gasp short of a scream escaped your throat. The crowd began cheering and egging the man to dive deeper and produce more velvety blood. He carved patterns into your skin. Little stars on your hip bone.

Cries turned to screams as the treatment grew even worse. You shook and pleaded for him to stop. Both you and the man were too distracted to notice the raucous happening out in the audience. As he brought the knife to your face he seethed “I know you like this, you little bitch!”

Just before he permanently marked your face, large hands grabbed the back of his neck and broke it. You gasped in agony and relief as Bane ripped your restraints free. Standing on shaking legs, your eyes roamed the mound of dead bodies lying at the floor of the filthy club. “Took you goddamn long enough,” you cut at Bane.

He ignored your comment and grabbed your wrist, pulling you out through backstage and through the door leading to an alley. “Can you at least tell me what the hell happened?”

Silence continued as you stepped outside covering your nearly naked body. “Hey -“ you started but Bane cut off your sentence by pushing you forcefully into the brick wall.

“I never knew,” Bane spoke slowly with a fire in his eyes, “that you were such a little pain whore.”

Desire cut through your adrenaline as you shot your hands to his cock. Meanwhile, his hands lifted your hips and legs wrapped around his waist. You were barely able to free his heavy cock before you were coiled around him. Blood dripped to the pavement as your hip wounds wept. You swiped your finger over the blood and placed it in your mouth to suck. A heavy sigh escaped you as he watched and clawed your top off.

“Take it all,” he rumbled “now.”

Your hand pushed aside your skimpy bottoms and guided his cock to your entrance. A deep breath filled your belly as he sunk deeply. Whimpers and whines filled the air as he let grunts escape. “So tight. So delectable,” he stated, bottoming out.

Your cunt tried fiercely to adjust before he began moving but failed rather miserably. Bane pounded relentlessly immediately. Soreness throbbed and drew the beginnings of a deep orgasm that started in your toes.

You were mewling like a pornstar and living your wildest fantasy. 

Bane was controlling you like no one else ever could. His body and attitude commanded your movements. You relished the new aggression he was treating you with as the orgasm threatened to peak. He finally understood that you weren’t so easily broken.

“I can feel that you are close to coming.” Bane spoke matter-of-factly. “Don’t.”

The command was so simple, yet so difficult to honor. A huge orgasm was about to wrack through your body and you weren’t sure you had the strength to stop it. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” you pleaded in effort to stop the inevitable. It took all you had, but you did it. The orgasm stilled just at the brink.

“Good girl.”

Fuck. That broke you. All hope was lost as your legs shook violently and the orgasm released like a tsunami within your body. Never in your life had you experienced such pleasure.

The vice that squeezed around Bane’s cock urged him to his own explosive orgasm. Cum painted your mons as he pulled out of your cunt.

After remaining still for a moment, he placed his forehead to yours.

“You only have one master.”

.................

Epilogue

.................

You ushered into the safe house as Bane searched for the first aid kit.

“So what actually happened back there?” You questioned him as you poured rubbing alcohol on your wounds. A hiss escaped your mouth at the searing pain.

“The entire crowd chose their fate when they decided to cheer on that maniac.”

“He wasn’t a maniac, just a sicko out of his depth.” You retorted for clarity, not argument or remorse. “What happened to Joker and Harley?”

“Joker knew something was going to happen and escaped through an escape hatch near his chair,” Bane stated plainly. “Barsad is tracking him as we speak.”

“Did we get what we needed?” You questioned hoping your mission didn’t turn into just a club massacre. “More,” he replied “Joker left an itinerary including client names and contacts. We will be able to cut off his access to the underground with this.”

Your eyes angle to the ground. “And Harley?”

Bane stilled and grabbed your chin to look him in the eyes. “Tell me everything about her,” he stated without a hint of curiosity


End file.
